Rain slicks the pavement, turning the late-night city into a blur of headlights and neon reflections. You’re walking home alone, the hood of your jacket pulled tight, earbuds in, lost in your own little world.

The footsteps start about a block behind you.

Unhurried. Deliberate.

You don’t think much of it at first. It’s a city. People walk. But they match your pace when you speed up. Slow down when you do.

At the corner of your street, you stop. Turn. Just a glance over your shoulder.

No one’s there.

Just the rain. The empty street. And the faint echo of a laugh, swallowed by the storm.

Then your phone buzzes.